


Rule 46.16: Third Man In

by kirani



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Chirping, Fights, Flirting, Getting Together, M/M, National Hockey League, sex mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 03:37:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17399309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirani/pseuds/kirani
Summary: It’s not like Kent is eager to join in the fights, but he knows the protocol. So when a fight breaks out in the Canucks game, he looks around for a Canuck to latch onto. He doesn’t have to wait long because Alexei Mashkov, newly drafted defenseman, has skated into him and wrapped an arm around him.





	Rule 46.16: Third Man In

**Author's Note:**

> I know a lot of OMGCP fans aren't big on actual hockey, so some background. The rule in the title is an NHL rule designed to keep fights from becoming uneven, penalizing a third player from entering a fight already in progress. Every player has to be fighting someone one on one, even in those big scuffles. The way players have decided to prevent this rule getting broken is to self-police themselves by pairing up with opposing players to keep each other from joining the fight. A [tumblr post](https://thecheesyllama.tumblr.com/post/159545865091/dreamyfarofflooknosestuckinabook-legotheeggo) about it if you want to see it in action.

It’s not like Kent is eager to join in the fights, but he knows the protocol. So when a fight breaks out in the Canucks game, he looks around for a Canuck to latch onto. He doesn’t have to wait long because Alexei Mashkov, newly drafted defenseman, has skated into him and wrapped an arm around him.

“Alright, little forward?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Kinda expected you to be in the fight this game. Given your reputation.”

The large Canuck laughs, a great booming thing, and slaps Kent on the shoulder. “I’m know what you mean, but I’m lover, not fighter.”

The fight is broken up and Mashkov is skating away before Kent can ask him just what he meant by that.

The next time they play the Canucks, it happens again, this time in Vancouver.

“Is good night for fight, yes little forward?”

Kent laughs.

“Wouldn’t know,” he says with a smirk. “I’m here to score, not to fight.”

“Am here to score, too,” Mashkov says with a wink and then skates off, the fight never having really gotten started.

The next fight in a Canuck vs Aces game has Mashkov at the middle of it. When Kent sees him later in the game, he chirps “thought you were a lover, not a fighter” and Mashkov winks and calls back “maybe am both!”

And Kent knows he can’t blame his blush entirely on the exertion of the game.

More often that not, though, Mashkov isn’t in the fights, and Kent never is. So they end up watching their teammates go at it, arms wrapped each other, time and time again over the years.

“How do you always end up here?”

“Am on Canucks team, do you not know this, little forward?”

“You know what I mean.” Kent feels himself blush beneath his visor.

“You not like that I always find you on ice?”

“Didn’t say that.”

“Okay then. I find you again soon.”

And he’s gone.

How does Mashkov keep doing this to him? He feels like a flustered school boy. It’s ridiculous.

When Mashkov gets traded to the Falconers, Kent finally tracks down his number.

 **Kent** : Hey, it’s Parson. Heard about the trade. Sucks, man.

 **Mashkov** : Is okay, Falcs are good team. Am excited))

 **Kent** : Glad to hear it. Good luck, man.

 **Mashkov** : See you on ice, Parson))

If he’s a little sad that he won’t see Mashkov as often now that they’re in different divisions, he buries that emotion deep down.

There’s only one Aces and Falcs fight that year, and Mashkov is at the center of it. So they don’t talk.

Then, suddenly, Mashkov is teammates with Jack fucking Zimmermann, and Kent is so conflicted, their strange little flirtation at odds with his complicated history with Zimms.

He skates too aggressively and makes stupid decisions, and someone mutters, “typical Aces hockey” which he doesn’t think is fair at all, and suddenly Mashkov is pulling him from a pile up by the scruff of his neck and cussing him out in Russian.

It shouldn’t be this hot.

He doesn’t know what to say, so he says nothing at all.

Mashkov sees him after the game though and calls him out on it.

“Was nasty play, little forward,” he starts.

“I know. Tell Snow I’m sorry, alright? My head was in the wrong place tonight.”

Mashkov looks at him for a long moment, his head tilted to one side, then nods. “Okay.”

“See you around, Mashkov,” Kent waves, turning to continue down the corridor.

“Wait,” Mashkov says, and Kent turns to look at him. “Call me Alexei.”

“Okay. See you, Alexei.”

The second and final game of that season against the Falcs (unless they both end up in the Stanely Cup Final but he’s not gonna jinx it by saying it aloud) is in Vegas and Kent decides to go for it.

 **Kent** : Wanna grab a drink after the game? On me.

It’s not explicitly a date, but it could be if Alexei wants it to be. God, he hopes he wants it to be.

 **Mashkov** : Okay, little forward

 **Kent** : Call me Kent

 **Mashkov** : Okay, Kent

There’s a fight in the game but it’s over so fast he doesn’t have time to find Alexei. So the first time he gets to talk to him is after press and showers when he leaves the locker room to find Alexei in his game day suit, leaning against the wall and scrolling on his phone.

“Drinks, yes?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

They chat about the game, about their teams, about where to go. It’s normal. It’s nice.

It’s not enough.

When they get to the bar, Kent orders them drinks and takes them back to the table Alexei had found. There’s three stools around it, one directly across from Alexei and one right beside him. He sits on the latter.

“Cheers,” he toasts the beer against Alexei’s glass and takes a deep swig. When he sets it down he lets his hand fall under the table to rest on the other man’s knee.

He’s greeted with a raised eyebrow and a smirk and he knows he’s read it right.

Mashkov has to leave to make curfew but Kent drags him into the back hallway of the bar first, pulling him in close for several minutes of frantic kisses, before letting him go.

They text. A lot.

The Aces playoff run ends almost as soon as it begins, but Kent can’t be too upset as he watches the Falcs go on a hot streak.

He watches them win from a bar with other Aces and his first thought when he see Jack kiss his boyfriend at center ice isn’t “I wish that was me kissing Jack,” it’s “I wish that was Alexei kissing me”.

He texts him his congrats as Swoops tells Carl to shut the fuck up and tries not to smile too hard at his phone.

Over the next week he gets selfies of Alexei partying and walking in the parade and then he gets one of him on an airplane with the caption “see you soon,” with a kissy emoji.

Kent stares at the text for several minutes before frantically cleaning his apartment.

They hadn’t talked about Alexei coming to visit. Hadn’t talked about what they were to each other. They haven’t even been in the same place since that night in the bar. But what else could that text mean?

When he doesn’t answer his texts, Kent tracks down the flight from Providence to Las Vegas that Alexei is certain to be on and drives to the airport.

He’s waiting nervously at the arrivals gate, still not entirely sure if he’s read this correctly, when he’s engulfed in a gigantic hug.

“Missed you, Kenny,” he mumbles against his hair.

“Missed you, Lyosha,” Kent agrees. “Come on, let’s get you back to mine.”

“Yes, want shower and to meet Kit.”

Kent laughs and releases him. “You got it.”

They don’t talk about it for hours. Until after Alexei has showered and played with Kit and they’ve ordered in Chinese takeout and cuddled on the couch.

They’ve been shifting closer together over the last hour until Kent can’t take it anymore. He leans up and kisses Alexei.

He responds enthusiastically and Kent slides into his lap, deepening the kiss. When Alexei grabs his ass, Kent draws back.

“Wait, hold on, what are we doing?”

“Making out? Maybe have sex?”

“Yeah, I’m down with that, but can we like, talk first?”

“Of course, Kenny,” Alexei smiles softly. “What are you wanting?”

“You. Always. I can’t stop thinking about it. And if you don’t want the same, that’s okay, but I need to know before we do anything else.”

“Am wanting you, too. Was maybe afraid to say it. Have been wanting you very long time, Kenny.”

“Great. That’s settled then. Bedroom is straight behind you.”

Alexei grins and grips Kent’s ass, standing smoothly and carrying him into the bedroom. Kent kisses him as they walk and by the time he’s made it to the bed, both of them are panting.

The next time they pair up during a fight, they chirp each other relentlessly and Swoops has to ask if he’s okay after the game.

“He can chirp me all he likes, he gives great head.”

Swoops chokes on his Gatorade.

“Don’t wait up!” Kent calls as he swaggers off.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m on tumblr at willdexpoindexter. Come cry with me about kent parson.


End file.
